


Frozen by Fear

by CarnivalofBrokenDolls (yourrhinestoneeyes)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dramatics, Ed has more issues, Everybody has regrets, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jonathan's fear toxin, M/M, Past Child Abuse, SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3 FINALE, Self-Harm, Slight torture, mentions of child abuse, season 4 time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-11 11:13:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11147253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/CarnivalofBrokenDolls
Summary: Jonathan Crane needs to make a name for himself in Gotham City, what's a better way to do that than to crash at the newest and most popular club in the city owned by a feared villain? Jonathan finds something quite intriguing while raining Hell on the Iceberg Lounge, a new patient to test his brand of medicine on, and Ed goes from one prison to another.





	1. Chapter 1

It all happened to be a series of events that worked out nicely for one Jonathan Crane and quite terribly for one Edward Nygma. 

Ed’s year as the frozen centerpiece in Oswald’s night club, the Iceberg Lounge had been a sort of a complicated Hell. When a young man with long black hair and pale skin entered the building tossing what everybody assumed to be a smoke bomb into the center of the main room, people scattered. Mr. Freeze and Firefly had advanced on him determined to attack the young man, to freeze him or to burn him to ash. Inhaling the green smoke had paused them, Victor had dropped his weapon and fell to his knees screaming and crying something about Nora and how sorry he was. Bridgit had begun to scream and setting fire to the scurrying customers who were desperately looking for a way out of the smoky chaos. The flames from her weapon hit against the large ice block in the center of the main room, it took no time for it to begin melting. Jonathan watched as the girl ran off screaming just like everybody else. He had a moment of curiosity wondering exactly what they were seeing, but this was not one of his experiments, this was the final test to see how the toxin in a smoke bomb would work on a gathering of people. It wouldn’t last long, but it was long enough for him to survey the results. 

Jonathan walked through the room stepping over the charred bodies, there were people who had fell to the ground crippled by fear and were pulling their hair from their heads. He passed by a distressed young man who was pulling fistfuls of his blond hair out of his head, blood running down his face, green eyes bulging as he looked at something no one else could see. Jonathan approached the centerpiece or rather what was left of it. He tilted his head to the side when something quite unique caught his eye.

The ice was melted down to barely anything, but in the center, was a man, his legs from the knee down were trapped in ice. The man wore a green suit that was soaked through with water, his body was shaking violently from the severe cold he had been trapped in for God knows how long. The man in green had his arms wrapped around himself trying to warm himself against the freezing cold, his head shot up when he finally caught onto the screams of the people being tortured and killed, his wide brown eyes scanned the room. He looked so frightened, Jonathan could sense a lifetime worth of fear in the man and wondered just how much more he could bring out in him. 

Jonathan reached out a gloved hand placing it against the stranger’s icy wet cheek, the man flinched away from him, his glasses falling to the floor. His eyes were set on Jonathan, he seemed to be trying to recognize him, but the mask covered most of his face obscuring his identity from him. 

“What do you fear?” He asked curiously as he stroked his fingers along the man’s cheek ignoring it when the other man attempted to pull from him.

The ice was thinning, cracking and splintering as the man struggled and pulled, grunting as he did his best to pull his legs free.

“Now, now, even when you get your legs free you won’t be able to run or fight. I say unless you can be warmed up that your survival chance is quite low right now.”

He wondered why this man was trapped in ice, why was he in the center of this night club?

Jonathan had heard tales about how wicked and quite insane the Penguin was, but he personally could not find the reasoning behind keeping a man frozen in ice. Was there a market for such a thing?

“I can show you some incredible things….Free your mind if you like, you seem confused, but I can clear that up for you.” He said as he moved his fingers up to the top of his head messing up his wet brown hair.

Again, the man struggled, he managed to break his legs free, immediately falling backwards into the puddle of water and shards of ice. He was looking all around him with such a fearful look as if a savior would come for him, Jonathan found himself smiling beneath his mask. He knew there was no savior, unless of course he counted himself as one. He could save him, set him free. Just like his father had set him free years ago by showing him the power of pure unfiltered fear and the ways it could be used.

Jonathan grabbed the man by the front of his jacket, he roughly pulled him to his feet steadying him so that he didn’t fall to the ground again. He could tell that he wanted to fight him, that he maybe even wanted to scream out for help, but icy fingers were gripping tightly to his throat preventing him from making any coherent sound. He could only whimper and cry from pain and cold as Jonathan dragged him through the smoky club and out into the cold night air. 

He led him to his car that was parked across the street from the club, he opened the passenger side door shoving the man in. 

“You will be the perfect patient for my new brands of medicine.” He told him before shutting the door and going around to get in on the other side.

Jonathan could hear police sirens, he had made it out with perfect timing. Nobody would think much of his car, his vehicle would blend in well with all the others quickly fleeing from the scene of this crime. He was sure that the ones fleeing was a mixture of the socialites and the seedy underbelly of the city, neither of which wanted to be there when the GCPD would arrive. He smiled to himself feeling that he had made the perfect introduction to the city of Gotham, a bit of a homecoming, and now he had a new test subject. Hopefully this one wouldn’t go and die on him like the previous one had done.


	2. Chapter 2

Oswald had been out for approximately three hours. He’d had to attend to some business in the more dangerous part of the city, business that ended quite handsomely for himself, but not so well for his very dead business partners. He had known when he drove up to the Iceberg Lounge and had seen Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock outside along with five ambulances that something disastrous had occurred, because of course it had. It had taken him under a second to become enraged as he got out of his car slamming the door shut behind him, the sound drew the attention of Harvey who made some comment to Jim laughing to himself before they approached him.

According to them some masked man with long black hair had entered the club, thrown two smoke bombs that released some form of toxic gas that had caused patrons to hallucinate. They assured him it wasn’t a new version of the Tetch virus, but said that it was something they had dealt with before. When he asked them what exactly it was that caused a panic to break out that ended with at least half a million dollars in property damage, they informed him that it was none of his business. Harvey seemed amused by the fact this news made Oswald’s left eye twitch. 

He watched as the paramedics and cops carried out body bag after body bag, others carried out stretchers where people were strapped down to keep themselves from further hurting themselves as they screamed like the more psychotic patients in Arkham. 

Oswald remained outside, just for a bit. Long enough to smoke a cigarette and attempt to calm himself. He knew he should be calm when he entered his establishment, he already knew it was wrecked. The damn door was lying on the ground, that on its own was a great sign of what waited for him inside.

He casually walked by the body bags, he kicked at one with the toe of his shoe. He gave a quick glance around to be sure nobody was watching, he stuck his cigarette back into his mouth letting it hang between his lips as he knelt and unzipped the bag revealing what he was rather sure was a man in his late fifties. The man’s face was completely mangled, his skin was ripped to shreds as if it had been clawed up by an animal. He wasn’t sure what had caused the chaos, but he had to give credit to the creator for making such a disaster piece. He zipped the bag up again, straightened up, tossed the remainder of his cigarette into the nearest puddle then made his way into the club.

The anger and rage that had simmered down returned to full blast when he saw the inside.

His club looked like a tornado had hit. Victor sat at one of the few remaining tables, hand held against his forehead. Oswald decided he would start with his ice man who was supposed to be his muscle.

“Victor!”

The older man tensed, he glared up at his boss.

“Hey, so something sort of happened while you were out.”

“I noticed, mind informing me about how some masked lunatic came into my guarded night club and did all of this?” He asked angrily as he gestured around the wreckage with his right arm.

“I was ready to blast the punk, he threw a couple of smoke bombs into the room.”

“And?”

“I saw shit, whatever the hell was in that stuff it made me see things I don’t exactly want to think about.”

There was a far off look on his face, it gave Oswald a bit of unease and for a second he remembered the ‘medicine’ in Arkham that caused him to hallucinate killing his own mother. Was it possible this was related to Dr. Strange? The last he had heard, Hugo was locked away in Blackgate with supposedly no way to get out. Oswald doubted that would last, but for now that was his home. He knew it would be possible for somebody else to get the medicine or perhaps another creator decided they wanted to use it for their own fun and games.

“There’s some worse news by the way….Ed got out.”

Something in Oswald’s mind seemed to sort of snap at that news. 

Victor watched cautiously, he saw his eye twitch per usual, he saw that snarl start to happen with his mouth. Within one minute Oswald was picking up the nearest chair and hurling it across the room.

“What the fuck do you mean that he got out, how, how did he get out?!” 

Victor flinched, there was an aching in his brain. He wasn’t really in the mood to deal with his boss screaming and throwing a childish fit, the idea occurred to him that he could ice him, just until he calmed down. 

“I don’t know, when I came out of my daze he was gone, I think the guy took him.”

“The guy, you mean the guy in the mask?”

“Yeah, that guy.”

“So, he just busted Ed out and then waltzed out of here while you were having some acid trip in the corner?” Oswald yelled.

Victor watched as he limped around finding anything else he could pick up and smash. Even in the wreckage the smaller man managed to find several untouched vases, tables, and chairs that soon were being thrown against walls.

“Look, it wasn’t like that. Whatever the hell was in that stuff it made me see my dead wife. I had to relive her dying over and over again, I killed her. I was choking her, she was blaming me for her sickness and her death. So, I wasn’t exactly in a great state of mind to keep an eye on your damn ice statue boy toy.” 

Oswald paused, he dropped the chair he was holding, it clattered to the floor. He ran shaky fingers back through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. 

“Okay. So, I need you to get Bridgit, wherever the hell she may be, and then I need the two of you to help me find Nygma. If he hasn’t died of hypothermia then I’m sure he’s going to be after me and I will be damned if I have to deal with that smug green obsessed bastard trying to kill me again.”

 

 

Jonathan was busy setting up a tray, assortments of tools he knew he would need. He had three syringes filled with different medications. Different forms of his fear toxin, all of which he would use on his new patient. 

He gathered up his supplies and moved over towards the metal table where his patient was laid out. The man’s arms and legs were strapped to the table, a security measure he knew he should have taken with his last patient. 

He turned on the overhead lamp, the blinding bright light caused his patient to stir awake. Jonathan watched as he groaned and turned his head to the side wanting to escape the light.

“Now I will need to ask a few questions before we begin treatment.”

The man opened his eyes squinting against the light, he looked towards Jonathan as if he was trying to see him and figure out if he was somebody familiar or somebody new.

“Who are you?” He questioned, voice raspy.

“I am your doctor, well I haven’t quite picked out the right name yet, but I was thinking Scarecrow.” He said laughing to himself.

“Where am I?”

“I believe I need to begin asking questions, tell me, what is your name?”

His patient weakly struggled against his restraints, he looked down noticing that he was securely strapped to the table. 

“My name….I’m…..My name is Edward Nashton” He answered sounding almost unsure of himself.

Jonathan picked up a syringe, this one filled with an orange liquid. A new concoction that he wanted to test, it would induce a panic attack if he had gotten it right.

“Well then, Mr. Nashton I think we should begin the experiment.”


	3. Chapter 3

Jonathan entered the small cell; a sectioned off room in the basement of a much larger home. Before he had begun bringing back patients he had had the basement soundproofed, this specific room was modified just for his patients. The walls were padded with soft white material that prevented his patients from bashing their heads against the walls and harming themselves, the floor at one time had been concrete, but one patient had bashed himself quite terribly against the floor, so now it was carpeted. A twin sized mattress lay on the floor in the corner, a toilet, and sink were placed against the wall opposite of the door. Curled up on the mattress, pressed back against the padded wall was Jonathan’s current patient, Edward Nashton. He knew very little about his patient; the man didn’t provide much insight or entertainment for that matter.

He turned his head and looked at the camera that was mounted to the ceiling. It wasn’t that he thought Ed might try to escape, it was more so he wanted to watch him and his reaction to the toxins as they took over his mind and body.

“I was thinking, if you think that you can handle it, perhaps you could answer some questions about yourself.”

There was no response, Ed dug his fingers against his scalp and gave a pathetic attempt to draw closer to himself.

He pondered for a moment if maybe the toxin that would cause a spike in depression was still affecting him.

“I promise, no drugs today. I need them all out of your system before our next round of testing. Today I just want to learn more about you.”

Ed lifted his head just the slightest bit, wide teary brown eyes stared up at him, and he genuinely did resemble a dog that had just been kicked to hell and back by its owner. Jonathan couldn’t help but smile at that look, at the shiver.

“What’s your age?”

He watched as the other man paused to think, he furrowed his brow and raked his fingers through his hair repeatedly like the answer was close to lost to him. 

“I’m, I think I’m twenty-eight.”

“You aren’t sure?”

Ed shook his head.

“Are you involved in a romantic relationship?”

Again, he looked confused, he opened his mouth to answer but then quickly shut it. Ed ran his tongue over his bottom lip then began to bite at his lip worrying it between his crowded white teeth.

“Since I found you frozen in a center piece in the middle of a club, I’ll consider that you have no loved one who will be looking for you.”

A sudden sadness seemed to come over him, he dropped his arms to his sides and leaned his head back against the wall. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he quietly cried.

“Are you a doctor?”

“Of sorts” Jonathan responded vaguely.

Ed gave a smile, “Am I here, because of something I’ve done?”

“Have you done something wrong?”

He let out a shaky sigh, “Yes”

“Mind telling me what?”

Ed let out a dry laugh, he rubbed at his eyes doing what he could to make the tears go away.

“I’ve killed, I’ve killed a lot, and I don’t regret a single one of them. Isn’t that awful?”

Jonathan continued to stand and to watch him, maybe he had hit the jack pot here. He had a feeling that Ed might be telling the truth about the killings and not regretting them, but also this was a man that he had found frozen nearly to death. He knew there were issues with his patient, with his mental health, and with his memory as well. 

“No regrets?”

“Not a one”

An idea came to him then, one that made him smile. Jonathan turned and left the room closing and locking the door behind him. He moved back to his lab and towards the fridge where the kept the vials of toxins. He had a full assortment of human emotions in these small glass bottles, he pulled one out, the liquid inside was a murky rusted red. It was experimental, just like the others, and it could honestly just kill his test subject. A risk he was willing to take, after all he wanted to be a doctor like his father. Except with much more skill and none of that paranoid worrying that his old man had done. 

He grabbed up a syringe and took the items back to the cell.

Ed was still right where he had left him, that look of overwhelming fear came over him again when Jonathan entered the room carrying the syringe and the small container.

Jonathan knew there was no such thing as a man who lived without regrets, there had to be one or two buried deep inside that brain of his.


End file.
